My Mentor's Concepts
by Vandenberg
Summary: During The Chase: Over the years, whether they are called for or entirely unexpected, things can, and will, change for the better, or the worse. Character Death


**Summary:** [During: The Chase] Over the years, whether they are called for or entirely unexpected, things _can_, and _will_, change for the better, or the worse. [Character Death]

[Zuko Angst]™ is everywhere. It's an epidemic. Please read and review! : 3 *sweat* OK! I'll tell! It was Hotspur and AvocadoLove!

_**[[Semi-crack-warning-thing:**__ Iroh is uncool. :D _**WARNING: **I have somehow created a crackish-angst fic. Wee! I'm SOOO COOL!**]]**

**Claimer:** I own the tissue I hold in my hand, not Avatar. I also own my hand, but that's nothing to boast about.

"speech"

'thoughts'

_Flashback/Extra emphasis_

**My Mentor's Concepts**

_Uncle._

"_Zuko, you should eat. A strong warrior needs food, meat in particular; although we're currently out of meat... We'll have to make do with what we have now." Iroh lectured, gesturing towards the two bowls of rice on the table. _

_Although Iroh's voice was even, and he daresay—_pensive_, his uncle's eyes were _smiling_. 'Why would he be happy! Was it some kind of inside joke about tea?' _

_Tea._

_The word itself was enough to cause Zuko internal suffering but coupling it with an uncle that couldn't hide his apparent glee tripled his irritation. All of this, ultimately, worsened Zuko's mood—his scowl growing ever so deeper as he caught a ghost of a grin on his uncle's face. _

"_I'm not hungry," he lied._

A snarl escaped Zuko's throat, despair morbidly blooming within his heart as he watched his uncle fall back, the smell of burnt flesh evident in the air, the foul stench filling his senses, confirming the grim reality he now faced. Overwhelming anguish swept over him—past regrets and past actions slicing through his state of mind.

Ignoring the hollow feeling in his chest, Zuko's golden eyes darted towards the problem.

And then killing intent overwhelmed him.

_Azula._

_After what seemed like a while, Iroh's face lit up theatrically. _

'_Bad news...' _

_Iroh had picked up his own chopsticks and started gesturing them towards _Zuko's_ bowl of rice and—with gifted ease—_snatched_ (snatched!) away Zuko's bowl and did an impromptu and over-exaggerated act of eating its contents. _

_After a few seconds of well-practiced food-inhaling, the bowl was empty. The clattering sound of the bowl hitting the table echoed throughout the room, making it seem like there were _clones_ of his uncle, existing, all of them clattering their own figurative bowls of rice with the simple goal in life to "Annoy Zuko!". _

"Uncle..._"_

"AZULA!"

Zuko's fist flew forward sending an incredible torrent of flames, a pulsating cold-blue—in contrast to its predecessor's passionate red—to which Azula parried, eyes narrowed, with a torrent of her own, and countered with an intense stream of lightning that he barely managed to dodge.

Zuko was now only scarcely aware of his surroundings; shouts emanating from _nowhere_ (beside him?) became white noise, nothing _important_.

He instinctually went into stance and gave Azula a deathly calm look, performing a sweeping kick and a succession of punches which sent blue ribbon-like blades of fire towards her, backed up with a pale blue inferno.

The returning attack billowed towards him a nanosecond later.

(_Was she smiling?_

_Was she crying?_

_He'd never understood his sister._)

"_...You ate my bowl of rice," his voice containing two parts venom-but-not-quite-venom and one part not-so-secret amusement._

"_Exactly!" rang Iroh's disturbingly jovial voice, "Now take my bowl of rice before I finish what I've started!" _

_Zuko, suddenly feeling thoroughly drained both mentally and physically, wisely (for once?) chose not to pursue the topic further. _

_The room filled with awkwa—no! Not awkward! Agni help him—the room filled with a _dignified _silence. Giving into exhaustion, Zuko slouched over the table with his face in his hands and elbows on the table, giving him a resigned appearance. _

_His stomach gave an imposing growl, its surprisingly loud cry for food echoing in a depressing manner._

_Moment after moment after eternity pressed on._

_And then he _snatched_ (like uncle, like nephew?) his uncle's bowl of rice without a second thought, his face contorted into an indignant expression. Queue inhaling... _now_._

_..._

_Iroh let a small_—_yet strikingly sincere_—_smile creep up on his face. _

Death was a terrible thing.

Being responsible for countless other deaths, he knew that fact quite well.

But to have it burnt into your eyes (literally?) was an entirely different thing from holding the responsibility itself. Much _too_ different.

Watching, seeing, smelling the _death_; the life; the act (...the killing blow); your friends—_family, he later corrected_—watching the kill, standing beside you; the life—burning away, flowing away (like blood?) was a chilling thing to experience.

But, afterwards, it strengthened his resolve—the fact that his enemy-friend granted him this one last gift (a gift?) didn't strike him as odd.

After all, he was the Avatar, wasn't he?

With that thought, he cracked a large smile and allowed himself to focus on the more important things. Like Sokka baiting Momo with a moon peach.

_He saw uncle Iroh and cousin Lu Ten sitting under the shade of a tree and conversing amiably, his mom hovering over them and giving the both of them pointed looks. _

"_After so many years away from your son, the first thing that popped up in your mind was to give him The Talk!"_

"_I have to agree with auntie Ursa, dad. That _was_ a bit out of place..."_

"_Is she blackmailing you?" Came Iroh's warbled squawk_, _his hands firmly planted on his son's shoulders and shaking them with all his might._

_Zuko strolled towards the group, chuckles escaping his lips, and added, "Good to see that you're giving mom ideas, uncle."_

_-v-_

Eeegads! My writing style is so bland and depressing. :I

(But I got Mai in that damn personality test, so, who knows? I guess it makes sense if I look at it funny or pretend to understand...)

Flame away peeps, i'm fully aware of the fact that EV-RY-ONE was OOC, aka depressing, random, or garystu-ish.

*runs around in circles*

Oh... hey. Yeah. I abuse brackets now.

Un-beta'd

-Skedaddle-San-san-san-san-san-san-san-san-SANDCASTLE! ;DD


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